The Map of the Sky (Trilogía Victoriana #2)(62)

Such were the unforeseen effects on American society of Locke’s hoax. And after recovering from his own disbelief, Locke himself learned a lesson from it all: Man needed to dream. Yes, he needed to believe in illusions, to aspire to something more than the miserable, hostile life that suffocated him. And he, Locke, had been clever enough to invent a perfect fantasy for that disenchanted dreamer. At first, this unexpected success had helped Locke weather the storm of criticisms and insults from his rivals, but as the years went by and things gradually returned to normal, and his practical joke became an amusing anecdote, Locke began to feel more and more proud of his achievement. He had given people a paradise about which they could dream, where they could take refuge from their earthly woes, and he had done so without robbing them of their free will, or forcing them to comply with absurd rules, or threatening them with hellfire and brimstone. Making others dream should not be the domain solely of religion or of artists, he told himself. No, governments the world over should create ministries devoted to helping people dream of a better world. As he entertained these thoughts, Locke began to feel more and more pleased with what he had achieved, although at the same time he was frustrated that no one else appreciated it. He had discovered that creating illusions on a grand scale had its problems, and however much he liked to think of humanity as a little child clamoring for a bedtime story, he realized not everyone was the same. Many preferred to accept the world the way it was, without the adornment of imagination. Others simply could not tolerate the idea of a power superior to the one they liked to flaunt. And all those different opinions were too much for one man to fight against. All Locke could do was share the magic potion he had stumbled upon by chance with those who really deserved it. A door-to-door effort, as it were. However, although he considered humanity as a whole worthy of the remedy, no single member of it seemed to him particularly deserving.

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YET THE DAY HE held his first child in his arms, and she gazed up at him with that intense, probing look newborn babies have, Locke knew he had at last found someone who deserved the gift of a more beautiful world by rights. And so, on Eleanor’s tenth birthday, he made her a very special present. He gave her the power to dream, the physical expression of which consisted of a scroll of paper tied with a bright red ribbon. When she unfurled it, the girl saw a map of the universe drawn by Locke himself. He could no longer populate the Moon with magical creatures (the scientists had seen to that), but the universe had yet to be discovered. With each passing decade, telescopes would gradually reveal its mysteries, and men would even be able to soar through it in winged machines heavier than air. But it would be a long time before that happened, centuries perhaps. For the time being, the universe could be exactly as Locke had depicted it on that scroll of paper.

And of course, his daughter, Eleanor, never doubted for a moment that it was any different, for she was as much of a dreamer as her father. But that was not her only quality. From an early age she showed signs of being an impulsive spirit, one of those souls from whom laughter and tears suddenly flow with equal exuberance. A delicate ray of sunshine appearing after a storm could fill her with the wildest joy, just as a wilting flower might cause her to cry inconsolably, although to everyone’s surprise, her father’s gift of the Map of the Sky proved the best remedy for her tears on such occasions. Sometimes opening it and running her little hands over the marvels shown there was enough to make her face light up once more. Fortunately, the map always managed to soothe her, whether she was upset because the runt in a litter of puppies was born dead or irritated by one of her suitors greeting her in a way that obviously betrayed his waning interest. No matter what the drama of the day was, Eleanor only needed to step into the garden and look up at the night sky to become instantly aware of a distant melody, like the clamor of a fairground with its promise of unimaginable delights, which for her was the real sound of the universe pulsating behind that shadowy veil, a universe no telescope could penetrate, and of whose existence only she and her father were aware.

The day her own daughter, Catherine, turned ten, she could think of no better gift than the Map of the Sky. Sadly, Catherine had not inherited what appeared to be the family talent for dreaming. Nor was she susceptible to the stormy passions that had dominated her mother’s life: Eleanor found it incredible that she had given birth to a child in whom she recognized nothing of herself. Catherine was too matter-of-fact to want to complicate life, and Eleanor, who believed that to live intensely one must overcome torment and unhappiness, immediately considered this a defect. As she never tired of reminding her husband—that suitor whose aloofness she had so often reproached—the serene smile their daughter wore on her lips, far from being a mark of a happy disposition, betrayed a complete lack of comprehension of the meaning of happiness. However, contrary to what her mother thought, Catherine did not grow up viewing the world with indifference. Rather, it seemed to her ideal, flawless, and beyond question. Nothing appeared sufficiently awful to disturb the tranquillity of her soul or fascinating enough to make her tremble with joy. If, for example, a suitor failed to pay her the attention she thought she deserved, rather than torment herself pointlessly she simply struck him off her list without the slightest sense of resentment. You will have no difficulty understanding, then, that for Catherine her grandfather’s map was never a port in a storm or a magic charm that restored her joie de vivre. It simply confirmed that she did indeed live in the best of all possible worlds, where even the strange universe was a friendly place filled with peace and harmony.